Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Jiang Chuxie had graduated, but Zhuang Qi hadn’t. Still, her senior year had no classes, leaving only her thesis to worry about. As for Zhao Zi, she rushed off to intern at a foreign biotech company right after finals, leaving Zhuang Qi sighing daily, lovesick.

Today, Jiang Chuxie was at the company, so Gu Lingjun, taking advantage of Zhao Zi’s break, called her.

“I’m exhausted,” Zhao Zi said, unusual for someone who rarely complained, showing how grueling the internship was. “But I’m learning a lot. Domestic biotech lags behind—there’s a noticeable gap.”

“Senior, you’re working hard…”

After some small talk, Gu Lingjun got to the point.

“Can you convince Aunt Gu?”

Zhao Zi was surprised by Gu Lingjun’s idea. After all, Gu Lingjun had just finished her freshman year, was married, pregnant, and planning a year’s leave to have the baby. Why was she suddenly thinking about this?

“I’ll convince her, but I need you to do some groundwork, Senior. My mom doesn’t know much about this, and I don’t have Murray Biotech’s financing plan. Can you help me make a connection?”

Murray Biotech, where Zhao Zi interned, was preparing a financing plan. Cutting-edge research burned money fast. As an emerging biopharma company with promising projects, Murray still faced financial strain without high-profit revenue.

“Well… I can ask, but I’m just a lowly intern. Whether they trust me is another matter. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“No worries. If it doesn’t work, I’ll pester Mom to reach out herself. But preparing beforehand makes it easier to persuade her.”

Zhao Zi asked curiously, “Lingjun, why this sudden idea? I thought you’d focus on your pregnancy.”

Gu Lingjun chuckled. “It’s because I’m idle during pregnancy that I thought of this. When you mentioned projects stalling for lack of funds, it got me thinking. Back then, I was a runaway with no money or clout.”

Zhao Zi was speechless. Her family was well-off, but compared to Gu Lingjun’s near-royal wealth… there was no comparison.

She’d fought hard to intern at Murray, while Gu Lingjun, bored during pregnancy, wanted to become a shareholder. Talk about infuriating differences!

“Lingjun, you’re not planning to throw money at charity, are you?”

Plenty of pharma companies made money, but more went bust, biotech included. To biology students, Murray was solid and steady, but to investors, it lacked flash.

Its most promising project was a Beta pregnancy aid, but boosting Beta fertility involved many factors. The aid was just one piece, and even if developed, it’d take time to reach practical use, with no short-term profits.

Plus, the company’s stalled projects had burned cash, leaving holes not easily filled.

“No way. Even if I wanted to, Mom wouldn’t.”

Gu Lian was a shrewd businesswoman, cautious with investments. She wasn’t the highest earner but consistently topped return rates.

“How will you assure Mom of profits?”

“I can’t predict the future or guarantee profits. I can only show her the company’s potential and possibilities. Hopefully, Murray’s financing plan looks impressive.”

“And if it flops?”

“Investing has risks—nothing’s guaranteed. If I convince Mom, it means she accepts the risks. If we lose, it’s bad luck or poor judgment. She won’t eat me.”

Zhao Zi was stunned. Gu Lingjun talked about losing money like it was nothing.

Was this the world of the rich?

Zhao Zi took a deep breath. “Got it. I’ll ask. If your family becomes a Murray shareholder, you’d better have my back!”

Gu Lian was baffled when her daughter called. Someone who should be resting was suddenly fixated on a foreign biotech company.

“You really plan to go into this field?”

The Gu family’s businesses had no connection to this industry, and Gu Lian knew little about biopharma.

“Yes, I believe the 21st century belongs to bioscience.”

Gu Lian thought for a moment. “Why this… what’s it called? Murray Biotech? What products do they have? How’s their profitability? Have you researched their financing goals?”

Prepared, Gu Lingjun answered concisely. “If you have more questions, Mom, we can visit for a closer look.”

“Lingjun, if you’re serious about this field, why not choose a stronger company?”

“Mom, I value their products, projects, and vision. Another company wouldn’t do.”

Gu Lian hesitated only briefly before agreeing.

“Alright, I’ll check it out. You stay put—flying while pregnant isn’t good. Xiao Zhao’s there, and I’ll bring some experts. I’ll let you know the decision.”

Her quick agreement shocked even Gu Lingjun.

“Mom, you’re really going to look?”

“What, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I thought I’d have to work hard to convince you!”

Gu Lingjun had sounded casual to Zhao Zi, but she’d braced for a long battle, ready to wear Gu Lian down.

After so many lives, she thought she knew her parents well. Her mother loved and protected her but had her own stubborn streak. This was her first time broaching a career topic, asking her mother to invest heavily in an unknown company in an unfamiliar field. No matter how you looked at it, her mother should’ve been ultra-cautious.

Gu Lian sighed with a smile. “Lingjun, you’re my only daughter. If you’ve thought it through, I’ll support you in anything. You chose this major yourself. I thought it was a passing whim, but hearing you now, I see you’ve been seriously planning your future. What else can I do but support you?”

Before, Gu Lian might’ve seen this as an immature impulse, but this year changed her view of her daughter.

At least in bravely loving Jiang Chuxie, Lingjun’s persistence paid off. She was sharper and smarter than imagined, not just lovesick. Seeing Jiang Chuxie fuss over her daughter, Gu Lian, as a mother-in-law, felt quite pleased.

Far better than those useless playboys.

She’d assumed that with such a reliable, caring partner, her daughter would focus on family.

That wasn’t bad. Gu Lian’s greatest hope had been for her daughter to find a loving partner and live happily and securely.

But thinking of her daughter’s reckless yet clever actions, she sometimes wondered what the Gu empire would be like under her.

The first thing she did when running away was transfer assets—something even Gu Lian hadn’t considered. How did Lingjun think of it?

Hanging up, Gu Lian looked at her phone, smiling.

When Gu Lingjun explained her call, she’d already agreed in her heart. The Gu wealth was ultimately for Gu Lingjun. Using it for her chosen career was ideal.

One failure could lead to a second try, a second to a third. Money wasn’t her priority anymore. Cautious investing gave her some satisfaction, and her upbringing made her hate failure.

But now, spending on her daughter’s dreams was more fulfilling than earning.

She just hoped the visit wouldn’t disappoint Gu Lingjun. If Murray wasn’t what she envisioned, she’d find other options.

“The surveillance broke again?” Zhuang Qi argued with the installation staff. “You said you couldn’t find the cause before. Still nothing? Is it the product, the installation, the program, or the power? Give us an answer! It keeps failing, and we can’t sleep soundly! This place holds trade secrets!”

Jiang Chuxie’s expression was grave, but after checking the locks, safe, and computers, she found no anomalies.

Once could be a coincidence, but twice, thrice?

Jiang Chuxie didn’t believe in such coincidences.

“Zhuang Qi, let the staff go. Don’t delay their work. We’ll check ourselves.”

No signs of outside intrusion meant one thing: the person had a key.

Hearing her, Zhuang Qi dismissed the staff, still fuming—a rare sight. Jiang Chuxie understood her anger but sighed silently.

“Chuxie, don’t worry. We’re moving offices soon. The new place has better security. This won’t happen again.”

Jiang Chuxie didn’t reply, saying softly, “I want to install a hidden camera in the office. We’ll do it ourselves, no one else knows.”

Zhuang Qi’s face darkened, grasping her meaning.

“There’s no money here, and we haven’t lost anything. Isn’t this… overkill?”

“That’s what’s scarier. If they’re not after money or computers, why sneak into the tech department?”

“But I don’t want to suspect our own people.”

Zhuang Qi wasn’t mad at the staff but at the implication that if it wasn’t the product or installation, someone inside was restless.

Jiang Chuxie, a computer expert, had installed cameras everywhere near home out of paranoia and was now adept with them.

The culprit was cautious; others might not notice the cameras failing. But Jiang Chuxie, hyper-vigilant, checked footage regularly, spotting the issue.